


Secrets and Obsessions

by Tarlan



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-04
Updated: 2003-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin returns to Chris after his search for Ella Gaines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets and Obsessions

Had it only been two days since he learned the truth about Ella Gaines?

Chris Larabee pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders, still weak from blood loss. He hissed softly as he pulled on the freshly stitched bullet wound, knowing it would be some time before he would be able to move easily. The bullet had torn into the right side of his body but, fortunately, it had ricocheted off a rib otherwise he might not have been alive to sit here in the sunshine feeling miserable. From the pitiful stares he gained from passers by, Chris knew he looked pale and haggard. In truth, he felt as if he had aged a hundred years in these last few days, with the weight of new and terrible knowledge sitting heavily upon his shoulders.

He still could not believe what she had confessed to doing; that she had orchestrated the death of his wife and child. He could understand a love that was so strong that one would do practically anything to save it but that did not stretch to murdering an innocent woman and her child in the name of love. Ella had murdered Sarah and Adam purely because they were the two people he had loved most in this world -- and because she believed they stood in her way.

And why now? Why had she turned up now? Had she been waiting for some sign to say he was over his period of mourning, and that he would be receptive to her renewed advances?

She had offered him everything he had always wanted; and almost everything he had lost when Cletus Fowler burned down his ranch and murdered his family on her orders. She had offered him a beautiful house, superior horse stock and a loving wife waiting for him with open arms when he came home each evening. And he had wanted it. For years, he had drifted from place to place, filled with bitterness and blackness, in mourning for the beautiful woman who had been his life, and for the child she had gifted to him. His Sarah and his Adam lay side by side in the cold graves that he had dug with his own hands near the burnt ruins of their home.

He had drifted for three years before finding this town and the six men who had become his closest friends. Each of them, in their way, had given back his life to him for they had drawn him back from the outer fringes of existence, giving his life renewed purpose. Still, he had been ready to discard their comradeship, lured by that white ranch house, those thoroughbred breeding mares and the sexy, loving woman who had made him feel like the most important person in the entire world.

That last thought made him catch his breath. Is that what he had seen in her? Could it be that all he had wanted was to be special to someone? Sarah had made him feel so special, so privileged, and so had Adam.

He closed his eyes, tears stinging them when he tried but failed to recall the soft, baby voice of his boy calling him Pa. Another voice called to him instead, and Chris opened his eyes, looked around intently in the strong belief that he had heard Vin, but the tracker was nowhere in sight.

Vin had left as soon as they got back to town, determined to hunt down Ella Gaines and bring her back to face justice. Though part of Chris burned with gratitude, knowing that the trail would have grown cold by the time he was able to get back into the saddle, the other part of him had wanted Vin to stay by his side, wanting the security of his presence as a child wants its mama.

He snorted derisively at that thought. Vin was not exactly the mothering type and yet Chris had wished Vin would wrap him up in his strong arms. He had wanted to hear that low drawl telling him that everything was going to all right, and he had wanted to smell the familiar scent of buckskin and spring water that simmered over the tantalizing, familiar musk of the man. Just this once, he had wanted someone to comfort him as if he was a child.

Chris shook his head, annoyed at the direction of his thoughts, and loathing the weakness of his mind and flesh. Though it seemed he had only started wanting Vin's companionship in that way since Ella's betrayal, Chris knew those desires had been lying buried deep inside since the day they first met. However, if Vin gained even an inkling of the kinds of thoughts Chris held for him, then he had no doubt that the younger man would be riding out of town -- and his life -- so fast that he would not see him for dust.

Approaching footsteps drew him away from those somber thoughts and he barely acknowledged the pity in the gray blue eyes that stared down at him. There had been a time when he had considered courting the beautiful widow, Mary Travis, but despite her many charms, he felt no thrill of sexual pleasure when she was near. After her short engagement to Gerald, it was apparent that she had discarded any possibility of ever becoming his wife too but then, he had little to offer her. He did like her though, and he considered her a friend despite their inauspicious beginnings, where she had written a libelous article about him and posted it in her newspaper.

"There's a letter for you."

He pursed his lips, hating the swells of pity that rolled over him as she hovered close by, with her natural curiosity aroused by the sudden arrival of this letter. He opened the heavily scented envelope and took out the folded paper, discovering that there was a picture enclosed. His heart faltered in his chest as he remembered the day he and Ella had posed for this photograph, recalling the way she had begged him to wear the suit, and loving the way she had helped him dress. He had known then that something was amiss for it was strange that she should have had the time to buy him an expensive suit, and it was stranger still that his tall, lean figure had fit that suit so perfectly, as if she had it made especially for him. However, he had not wanted to believe that she was no good, seeing only the chance to reclaim some of what he had lost. They had walked down the stairs, arm in arm, and he had been surprised to see one of Ella's guests waiting to take their photograph.

This was that photograph.

Carefully, he unfolded the expensive paper, almost gagging at the cloying scent of perfume that permeated the sheet. He read the words slowly, feeling a sense of nausea wash over him.

_I forgive you for not appreciating what I did for you... for us. But I cannot allow the jealous and the weak-of-heart to destroy the great love we share. If we have the courage of our true hearts, we will do whatever is needed to find our way back to each other, and the rest of the world be damned. Until that day, I remain faithfully, lovingly yours._

She had signed the letter Ella Gaines-Larabee.

"Chris. She leaked out of the landscape. We covered every town between here and Red Fork. Sorry you didn't shoot her when you had the chance."

Chris looked up to find Vin's azure blue eyes looking down on him, grateful that there was no sign of pity in them for he did not want anyone's pity, least of all from the man he considered his best friend. Then it occurred to him that he had not heard Vin's approach, his mind numbed by the letter he held in his hand. He brushed aside that thought when he realized that Vin was waiting for a response.

"Next time."

"Chris? You all right?"

"I-I'm fine. I..." Chris thrust the letter towards Vin as anger replaced the numbness. He felt sick to the very depths of his soul, as if the very scent of her presence tainted him. "Burn it."

Vin looked stunned for a moment, and confused. He took the letter, gingerly holding it in his hand, his eyes trying to read an answer to his unasked questions in Chris's eyes but Chris pressed his lips tight together.

"I said burn it."

Reaching into one of the pockets of his buckskin jacket, Vin drew out some matches. He scraped one against the nearby wall and held the paper above the bright flame. It caught instantly, and Chris watched with a mixture of anger and fascination as the flames consumed the letter, even overpowering the heavy scent of perfume that impregnated its ivory sheet. Vin dropped the burning remnant before the flames could lick at his fingers and they watched until there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

"I need to lie down for a while."

Vin made no great show out of offering Chris an arm to help him rise, making it seem an every day occurrence rather than an act of compassion or pity for a weakened man. Once Chris was on his feet, Vin took a step back, allowing Chris the dignity of walking into the boarding house unaided. Behind him, Chris thought he heard Vin's footsteps falter and had a terrible, sinking feeling that Vin would turn around and leave -- perhaps forever this time. However, when he reached the bottom of the stairs, Vin's arm snaked around his waist to support him. His own uninjured arm rested across Vin's shoulder and he leaned heavily into the slightly smaller but stronger, muscular frame as they made their way up the flight of stairs.

****

Vin dropped from his horse and led the gelding through the long grass to the edge of the small pond. He tethered his horse to the root of one of the few hardy trees that overhung the pool of still water, giving the horse a long enough rein to allow him to wander several feet in search of the delicious blades of grass that grew more luscious and verdant near the water's edge. Sitting down, he leaned back against the gnarled trunk, snapping a blade of grass from nearby and chewing on it thoughtfully. Not a ripple marred the surface as he gazed across the pond, giving it the appearance of a mirror reflecting the blue of the late summer sky. He knew there were fish in there, having come here once with Chris--and with Mary's son, Billy--and surprising them by catching several fish for their supper, much to Chris's exasperation.

He smiled softly. Chris might be one hell of a gunfighter, but he was no fisherman. However, it had been a good day, with just the three of them, though Vin would have been happier still if it had been just him and Chris.

The smile faltered as he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the photograph, one finger tracing over the strong image of the man who, unknowingly, ruled his world. He had found the photograph lying on the floor beneath Chris's chair when he assisted him back to his room earlier. It did not take much reasoning to figure that it must have come as part of that letter he had burned for Chris. However, it must have fallen to the floor unnoticed, and had then been forgotten. Vin let his eyes drift across to the other image in the photograph and his first urge was to tear her away from Chris, and to burn her image as he had done her letter.

Yes. He knew she must have sent that letter, for why else would Chris have been looking at it with such horror in his eyes? Why else would he have grown even paler, taking on that gray complexion of a man who was about to throw up his breakfast? Vin had never heard such anger in the soft voice before, tinged with self-loathing, guilt and grief for those who had suffered at the hands of this madwoman's obsession.

Vin sighed deeply. He was well aware of the power of love, of how pure and righteous the folks considered it when held between man and woman, but her obsession for Chris had been unhealthy. However, there were many who would consider his own obsession with Chris Larabee to be equally unhealthy. The only difference between him and Ella was that he would never kill an innocent person in some twisted ideal that this would make Chris love him in return.

He stared at the woman's face. She was a handsome woman but not what he would have called pretty, and definitely not beautiful despite the way other men fawned over her. For Vin, the darkness in her soul was evident in the hard lines of her down-turned mouth, and in the strange glitter of her obsidian eyes. He could not understand what it was about her that Chris had found so attractive, then decided that, perhaps it was because she was the opposite of his dead wife, giving Chris no reminder of the woman he had loved and lost.

Vin thought about the large ranch house and the beautiful horses in the corral. She had known exactly how to entice Chris and he found he was likening her to one of those large black spiders that lured in its victim and then fed upon it. He had tried to warn Chris about her on the night they took this photograph, trying to call Chris's attention to the web of deceit she had spun around her but he had not wanted to listen.

"She lied to you... up and down the line. The woman's no good, Chris."

"I'm gonna forget you said that."

"Well, come sunrise, then... I'll be going."

Vin could hardly blame Chris for wanting to recapture a little piece of the past and weave it into a future. He only wished that he were able to do the same for Chris and offer him a future beyond risking their lives for a mere dollar a day. Instead, all he could do at the time was walk away, unwilling to stand by and watch while this woman reduced the man he loved to a mere bauble or possession.

Pulling out out his pocketknife, Vin cut away the image of Ella Gaines, taking care not to damage the image of Chris Larabee. He gave one last, long look at her but he knew he needed no reminder for that face would haunt him forever. He took out another match and struck it on the large root by his hand. The piece of photograph burned quickly, giving off a dark, acrid smoke as if Ella Gaines' blackened soul was escaping from this image. He dropped it to the ground, watching the surface bubble, and seeing a ring of blackness form around her features for a moment before the fire consumed the last of her image.

Once she was no more, Vin stared at the remaining image of Chris and then, with great care, he placed it into a special pocket where he kept his most treasured possessions and memories.

****

Only a dim light filled the almost empty saloon but Chris wanted to get away from the four walls of his boarding room to where there was still a little life. Carefully, he sank down into the seat that he had taken possession of since coming to this town. It gave him a good view of the saloon and all the entrances, and it had the added advantage of being in an area hidden from the circle of light thrown out by the lamps. He leaned back into the shadows; his clothing blending into the darkness as he grieved, once more, for the life he once had and thought he could reclaim.

Gradually, he started to take proper notice of events around him. He saw Buck enter and head straight for the nearest available woman, smoothly moving into a patter that had her blushing and giggling within seconds. Chris felt a moment of envy, wishing he had the same ability to put people at ease with so little effort but in truth, he did not care for most people. Anyway, what did it matter if they liked or loathed him so long as they respected him and his wish to remain separate from them? He frowned as Josiah and Nathan entered, taking a seat near the door. Very few people had breached his self-defenses over the years and it still amazed him that most of those people lived here in this one small town.

He sighed. Of course, the one person who had managed to get deepest into his soul was the one person he could not have. Perhaps Ella Gaines was his punishment for wanting Vin but then, Ella had been part of his life long before he had ever met the scruffy tracker.

With dismay he realized that his thoughts had turned full circle once more. It was still hard to believe that she had been the one responsible for the horrific death of Sarah and Adam although, looking back, the main reason why he had left Ella all those years ago was her black-hearted jealousy. He thought she had changed, learning how to give as well as take, but now he realized that she could never change.

Chris glanced up as a figure blotted out the lamplight and he smiled in welcome to the man standing there. Once more, Vin had managed to sneak up on him, or maybe he was just not himself these days, too preoccupied as he wallowed in self-pity to allow his innate sixth sense to guide him.

"Ya been here long?" Vin smiled softly as he looked down at Chris.

"Nope."

Vin looked pointedly at the almost full bottle. "Intending to drink that all that by yourself?"

"Nope."

Vin gave him a strange half-smile. "You waiting for anyone special?"

"Was."

A frown marred Vin's boyish features for a moment and then a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he realized the meaning of Chris's words. He pulled out a seat and sat down, laying his hat on the tabletop. Chris pushed the untouched shot of whiskey across the table and watched as Vin downed it in one. He almost grinned at the way Vin scrunched up his face as the cheap alcohol burned like liquid fire down into his belly. Vin dipped his head in that shy way that sent Chris's heart beating wildly, raising his blue eyes beneath a fringe of dark lashes in a coy expression. He had always considered Vin to be worldly-wise and yet, at times like this, he could see the small, innocent boy that still lingered inside. He chuckled softly, finding a little joy for first time in over two weeks, and feeling his spirit lift higher because of it.

****

Vin sighed contentedly as he bedded down in his wagon, his thoughts traveling back to the saloon and that small chuckle from Chris. It was the first time he had seen even a glimmer of pleasure in those green eyes since the day Ella Gaines revealed her part in the Larabee murders. He grinned into the darkness, letting the beautiful image flow through every part of him. He loved to look into Chris's eyes, mainly just darting glances but, every once in a while there would be the opportunity to sit and almost stare into those green depths.

He considered his memory excellent and, without much effort, Vin visualized every aspect of those eyes. He knew every minute speck of gold cradled around the dark pupil and he could find names for every shade of green that made up the significant part of the iris. He would seek out those colors in nature: the olive green of the moss growing on rocks by the edge of the pond, and the paler green at the tips of the stiff leaves of Spanish bayonet that grew a little farther south. However, all this merely skimmed the surface of those eyes. What he loved most was that he felt he could see right into Chris's soul through those eyes, easily reading most of the powerful emotions that were the driving force behind the man, though still confused by others.

There were times when he could almost fool himself into believing that those hidden emotions were for him, and that there could be more than this deep friendship existing between them. However, he never wanted to make the mistake of broaching that subject and seeing the love he hoped for turn into a look of disgust. Instead, he would wait and watch, taking what pleasure he could from moments like this evening.

****

The heat of Summer gave way to a marginally cooler Fall, but Vin knew from the scent around him that Winter would come early this year. Down here on the plain, the snowfall would not be excessive, perhaps only a few inches deep in places but on the higher ground he had heard of several feet of snow falling in the space of a few hours. So, it made sense to ensure he gained everything he needed from the high ground and stored it safely away while the warmth of the sun kept the snows at bay.

Vin packed his horse carefully, making certain there would be sufficient provision for several days even though he was expecting to eat off the land, not being one to take foolish chances. He looked up in surprise when he heard another horse approaching and he felt even more surprise when he saw Chris in the saddle.

"Going somewhere, Pard."

"Yep. Going with you."

Vin raised both eyebrows. "Nathan all right with that?"

"Didn't ask."

Vin frowned but he knew Chris was not one for mollycoddling. Still, he thought it best to remind Chris that he had planned a long trip.

"Ain't expecting to be back for a few days."

"I know."

Chris indicated towards the bulging saddlebags and extra blanket rolled up behind the saddle.

"Well. If you think you're up to it then I could always use the company."

Vin grinned as he turned away and mounted up. He had planned on a three day trip, with two nights away in all, but had not been looking forward to it until this moment. He smiled inwardly at the thought of three days alone with Chris, and two nights ranged around a campfire talking softly or sitting in comfortable silence. He knew what he would like to do instead of talking but he was pragmatic enough to realize that this was the best he could expect.

As they moved out of town, Vin had a moment of doubt, wondering if Chris was ready for a long journey. Only three weeks had passed since Ella Gaines' man had shot him, and even though the bullet had glanced off the rib, the area would still be sore. He pressed his lips together. If Chris believed he was ready to ride on out then who was Vin to argue with him.

****

After three hours of traveling, Chris knew he had made a mistake coming along with Vin. He was saddle sore, this being the first time he had ridden since the shooting, and he realized that the weeks recuperating had softened him. In addition, his side was throbbing with every step his gelding made, the slight roll of the horse putting pressure on the healing wound. He kept his lips pressed in a tight line to keep from making his discomfort known but he knew he had failed when Vin pulled up, grabbing the reins of Chris's horse.

"You don't have to be stoic with me, Cowboy. Know you're in pain. I ain't in such an all fired rush to get to that high ground. Don't rightly need to go at all excepting for some stupid notion about being self-sufficient. Could get all I wanted from the town if needs be."

"At a price."

"Hell, Larabee. Money ain't the problem."

"That coming from the man who had to borrow a dollar from Josiah two days back."

Vin laughed softly. "Won't even ask how you learned about that."

"You sure? You'd be amazed at the route that information took to reach me."

"Doubt it." Vin snorted softly. "And I ain't gonna let you change the subject, Chris."

Chris glared at Vin but to no avail. Vin dragged his hat from his head and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve before reaching for the canteen hanging over the pommel of his saddle. Chris took a surreptitious glance at the light brown curls that cascaded just passed Vin's shoulder, seeing the different hues and tones caught by the light of a late-morning sun. Some strands appeared almost golden, while others were a rich chestnut but all those curls looked soft and silken despite their three-hour ride. His fingers itched to reach out and touch the thick tresses, wanting to feel if they were as soft as they looked. Instead, he watched as Vin tipped back his head to drink from the canteen, seeing the Adam's apple bob with each swallow and then he smiled when Vin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before offering the canteen to Chris. He accepted, taking a single mouthful of the tepid water. He realized how easily it could be to misconstrue the intimacy of this offering, especially as both men had their own full canteens. However, Chris did not allow himself to believe that more than a deep friendship was behind the casual offer, and he handed the canteen back wordlessly.

Vin looked up at the bright sky and then nodded towards a small stand of hardy trees.

"Should make a good resting place for an hour or two--"

"And then I'll turn back so you can go and get your provisions."

Vin shook his head, treating him to one of those coy, half smiles.

"If you ain't the most stubborn sonuvabitch I ever..." He shook his head again. "Meant what I said, Chris. I don't need to go hunting. I got enough stashed aside to see me through the winter already. Just like to have a little extra... just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case I take to sharing what I have."

"Sharing with anyone in particular."

Vin gave him another shake of the head before urging his horse towards the stand of trees leaving Chris to wonder if he had missed something important. He felt a black moment as he wondered if Vin might have a secret love, perhaps one of the townsfolk's daughters, but he could not recall Vin showing special attention to any person in particular--except maybe for Nettie Wells. He frowned and then laughed at his own insane jealousy, realizing that Vin did not have to be courting anyone. For all he knew, Vin might be feeding some mangy dog he found digging through the garbage behind the restaurant, though it was more likely that he was thinking of Nettie Wells and the Widow, Mrs. Potter. Both women were more than capable of providing for their families during the coming winter but that never stopped Vin from watching over them.

He grimaced as his horse took those final steps to where Vin had tethered his gelding, the jolt of each step sending pain radiating through him. Although he tried not to, he could not help a small grunt of pain as he eased out of the saddle but if Vin heard, then he made no mention of it. With great care, Chris lowered his battered body to the ground and into the shade of one of those trees, easing back until he was leaning against the rough bark. He tilted his flat-brimmed hat forward and closed his eyes, quickly falling into an exhausted sleep.

****

Vin watched Chris from the corner of his eye as the stubborn man eased from the saddle and settled on the ground. He winced as he heard the soft gasp of pain but he knew Chris would not welcome any mothering. Very quickly, the short breaths of pain eased into the deeper ones of sleep, giving Vin the opportunity to stare at the semi-reclining figure.

Chris had stretched his long, lean but muscular legs out before him, with the tight, dark pants merely emphasized those attributes. Although Chris had pulled the hat low over his face, Vin could still see the generous curve of his mouth, lips slightly parted in sleep to reveal a hint of white teeth. The slightly stubbled chin pressed down onto the well-defined chest; those agile fingers intertwined as they lay across his stomach. It was a pleasing sight and Vin could only imagine how much more pleasing it would have been if Chris had been naked.

In the three years that he had known him, Vin had only ever seen Chris bare-chested on one occasion, and that was on the day Ella Gaines' hired man had shot him. At the time, Vin had not taken much notice, being too preoccupied with the flying bullets and Chris's foolhardiness in standing out in the open. However, there was no one shooting at him right now so he let his mind recapture that image, loving the warm sensation that rippled south to his groin as his memory supplied images depicting the innate beauty of this man. He could feel his shaft thickening with the lustful thoughts but he held back on the strong urge to rub his palm across his burgeoning erection, not wanting to be caught playing with himself should Chris awaken suddenly. With a frustrated sigh, Vin leaned back against the gnarled trunk and allowed himself only the pleasure of sight, committing more of this man to his memory to warm the cold winter nights ahead.

An hour later, the sound of an approaching rider broke the spell of his fantasy, and Vin stood quickly, hand settling on the mare's leg strapped to his hip. He glanced down but Chris had not stirred and just as Vin was about to kick his foot, Vin recognized the rider. He moved towards Nathan Jackson, raising his hand in welcome before placing a finger across his mouth to ask for silence. Jackson dismounted and walked the final steps to Vin, leading his horse over to where the others stood.

"Damn fool. Where is he? Got better things to do than chase his scrawny hide on a day like this." Vin did not bother to smother a grin as Nathan ranted gruffly. "Just hope he hasn't pulled them stitches or I gotta sew them all over again."

Nathan fell silent and hunkered down near Chris, pushing his own hat back from his dark-skinned forehead and letting it hang down his back as he peered closely at the sleeping man. He stood up and walked over to where Vin had retaken his seat by the other tree, dropping down beside him. Vin gave Nathan a half-smile and nodded in Chris's direction before speaking.

"Figure the ride plum wore him out."

"Figure so too, else he'd have had that gun aimed at my chest before I'd got within twenty feet of him. I'll leave him be for now. Check him once he wakes up."

Very quietly, the two men gathered some dead wood and started a small fire, setting a battered old coffeepot on top of it. They looked across from time to time as they drank the hot black liquid but Chris had moved only once, groaning softly as he shifted position before falling back to sleep.

"He shouldn't be out here. You should have known better than to bring him along with you."

"He's a grown man, Nathan. Ain't up to me to tell him what's best for him."

"You know he don't listen to no-one but you, Vin."

Vin looked away, remembering when he had told Chris about Ella. "Ain't so, Nathan. Wouldn't listen when I told him about that Gaines woman."

"Hell, Vin. Might not have seemed like he listened at the time... but he did. You made him think, made him go check on her hiself." Nathan looked askance at Vin. "What I can't figure out is how you knew she was no good."

"Just a feeling, Nathan."

Vin looked away, not wanting to reveal that jealousy had governed his actions, and that he had not wanted to lose Chris to that woman--or any other person. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nathan shake his head, that bright, friendly grin back on his face. They fell into silence, only breaking it when Chris opened his eyes half an hour later.

Vin hid a grin as Chris blinked owlishly at them before a look of total surprise crossed his face when he saw Nathan seated next to Vin around a small campfire. He pushed himself upright, grimacing in poorly concealed pain.

"Serves you right for riding all the way out here. Damn fool."

Vin saw an angry retort flash into the green eyes but Chris was wise enough to hold his tongue, looking contrite moments later when Nathan began to fuss over checking his stitches. Chris averted his eyes from Nathan's as the healer pulled aside the bandage and probed the wound, for he had replaced those stitches once already after Chris ripped them in a misplaced show of defiance more than a week back.

"Well... look's like you're still in one piece. And them stitches are almost ready to come out now anyways." Nathan looked up, his dark eyes boring into Chris's. "You still planning on going on with Vin?"

A flash of guilt crossed the handsome face.

"No. I'll head back to town; let you take out these stitches." Chris turned those green eyes to Vin, holding him fast with a commanding stare. "You go on ahead and get your supplies, Vin. Don't see no point in you turning around because of me."

"Told you I don't need them. Just felt obliged to go get them."

Vin refused to let his eyes drop and saw any further thought of argument fade as Chris turned away, huffing softly in accepted defeat. Vin could see that Chris was feeling a little guilty nonetheless.

"Mean what I say, Chris. Don't need it, though it's good to get away from the town from time to time."

"Yeah. It is good."

There was a wistfulness in the soft voice that tore at Vin's heart, and at Nathan's too if his next words were to be judged.

"Then why don't we stay out here tonight. Ride back tomorrow."

Nathan's suggestion put a glint back into the green eyes and Vin found himself responding on behalf of both of them.

"Sounds good to me."

****

**The Next Day:**

His side was aching; nevertheless, Chris felt some relief that Nathan had removed the stitches. Finally, it seemed as if he might be healing physically. He half-listened while Nathan gave him instructions on what he could and could not do for the next few weeks, but most of it was common sense. He watched Nathan's exasperation turn to resignation when the healer realized he was not paying sufficient attention to his words, and Chris made a promise to buy Nathan a drink in the saloon later that night.

As Chris settled back into his room at the boarding house, he thought back to the previous evening. Spending the night out in the open had not gone exactly the way he had planned and yet he could not find any annoyance at the unexpected addition to their party. Nathan had been good company, full of anecdotes of places and people he had seen both before and after his emancipation. His easy-going nature was far different from Buck and Ezra's, lacking the flourishes and embellishments -- the bullshit, as Vin would say -- and yet he had the same effect of putting people at ease.

Even Vin had been a little more talkative than usual but then Nathan had a way of drawing a man's thoughts out into the open. Vin had talked about the past, letting them see why he had been prepared to go hunting for winter stores when none were needed, and it made Chris realize that Vin's life had not been as easy as his.

They had spent the evening drinking a little whiskey and eating a delicious rabbit stew conjured up by both Nathan and Vin from the scrub-land around them. He was grateful when they made no mention of his lingering weakness and he did not notice until lying down to sleep that, while he was relieving himself, Nathan and Vin had tucked their extra blankets beneath his bedroll to ensure he was more comfortable. Waiting until they were both on the edge of sleep before mumbling his thanks, he floated off to sleep with the warm buzz of alcohol in his blood and the hot, nourishing stew filling his belly... and with his heart just a little fuller too as some of the scars from his recent encounter with Ella faded through the healing power of his friendship with these two men.

No sooner had he settled when angry shouts drifted up from the street below and Chris moved across the room, drawing back the edge of the curtain so he could see what was happening. One of the drunkards was a local farmer, Jed Cutter, who liked to cut loose in town on a Saturday. He tended to ride into town early and he started drinking as soon as the saloon opened its doors. However, Cutter was a belligerent drunk and, usually, he ended up in the jail by late afternoon after starting a fight with another patron at the saloon. Chris checked his watch and noticed it was only two o'clock. It appeared that, this Saturday, Cutter's fight had started earlier than usual but Chris did not recognize the second man and assumed he was some drifter or a new hand from a nearby ranch. The shouting match turned into a fistfight, with the two men slogging at each other and then grappling, and rolling over and over in the dusty street. Horses tethered to the hitching post shied away, eyes rolling back wildly as they tried to dodge the two men who fought beneath their hooves.

Chris smiled when Buck's rangy figure came running from the saloon, followed closely by Vin. He watched as Vin and Buck pulled the two drunks apart, with Buck's extra height serving him well as he dragged Cutter up, one arm wrapped round the man's throat, the other shoving Cutter's arm up his back.

Vin was not so lucky. The stranger was wire-thin but his arms flailed wildly, one elbow jabbing back to strike Vin in the face. Vin lost his grip and the man turned, thumping him in the lower left side. Chris frowned, leaning forward to press his face against the glass when Vin did not fall back from the punch as expected. Instead, Vin fell forward, leaning heavily into the drunk. For a moment Chris froze in confusion and then he heard Josiah's deep bellow of rage as the drunk stepped away with his right hand bloodied. Vin dropped to his knees and Chris whispered Vin's name before thrusting away from the window and racing from his room.

He felt the pull of fragile scar tissue as he took the stairs four or five at a time but paid it no heed, determined to reach Vin's side no matter the personal cost. As he raced across the street to where Vin was still kneeling, he could see Nathan rushing down from his clinic. They reached Vin at the same time, dropping down to either side of the injured man. Chris drew a sharp breath as he spotted the knife buried deep in Vin's side, his eyes turning to Nathan's immediately. Buck raced up to them, standing above the trio, his blue eyes filled with concern. He had handed Cutter over to JD while Josiah dragged the knife-man off to the jail.

Chris could only watch in impotence as Nathan commanded Buck to help him get Vin to his clinic, his own attempt to take some of the weight meeting a snarl of disapproval from the healer. He followed on behind, picking up the objects that fell from Vin's jacket as they half-carried him along the street and up the stairs. Chris recognized the damaged medicine pouch as the one Chanu had given to Vin and then he saw something else flutter to the ground. He reached for it before the late-afternoon breeze could lift it away, expecting it to be a folded bounty poster, or some written memento from the past. Instead, he froze, staring down at his image in a photograph that he thought he had ordered destroyed weeks ago.

Thinking back to that day, he remembered reading the obscene letter from Ella and then thrusting it at Vin, commanding him to burn it. He had watched flames lick at the paper until it was no more than a small pile of ash but he realized that the photograph had not been in his hand at the time. Chris frowned, trying to recall where it could have gone and then he remembered Vin's faltering steps as he followed him into the boarding house. The photograph must have fallen to the ground and Vin had picked it up. Looking at the photograph, he noticed that Vin had cut away all trace of Ella Gaines, making it appear that he had stood alone when they took the photograph.

Why?

Chris forced his feet to start moving again and he started up the stairs. He paused on the threshold of the clinic, eyes focusing on the pale, sweat-sheened figure lying on Nathan's bed. Using one of the sharp knives that were his trademark, Nathan cut the buckskin coat away from around the thick blade embedded in Vin's side. There was a lot of blood but Chris could see that the thick hide coat had prevented the blade from sinking in too deep. Nathan had a cloth in hand, ready to stanch the flow of blood when he removed the knife. He raised the cloth, asking Buck to pour liquor onto the inch long cut and onto a finer blade from his collection before he began to probe into the wound, removing pieces of Vin's shirt and undershirt that would fester and infect the wound.

Chris pressed his lips close together, almost feeling the pain as Vin took a gulp of whiskey before forcing himself to stillness once more. The pain-filled, bright blue eyes found and held his own and Chris took several steps forward, dropping down beside Vin and grasping his hand. He gritted his teeth as strong fingers crushed his, but he did not let go.

Nathan pulled away once he was certain the wound was clean of debris, grabbing a needle and thread. He soaked both in alcohol and then set to stitching up the wound. Once more, Chris could only grit his teeth as Vin's fingers tightened around his own but, eventually, Nathan drew back to admire his handiwork. Vin's blood covered his coffee-colored hands, and had splattered and smeared across his clothing but he did not seem to notice or care about the mess. He poured more alcohol onto the wound, drawing a hiss of pain from Vin and then he crossed the small room, washing the blood from his hands before reaching into a bowl where he had stored clean, freshly boiled bandages. After dressing the wound, Nathan rose to his feet and came back to Vin's side with a bottle of laudanum.

"Said... no Laudanum."

"One dose ain't about to turn you into a deranged southern colonel."

Chris grimaced remembering the first time the seven men had worked together, protecting a Seminole village from a ruthless ghost of the Confederacy, Colonel Anderson. The man had been almost out of his mind from pain and from taking too much laudanum to counteract it.

"No Laudanum," Vin insisted.

Nathan sighed heavily and thrust the bottle of whiskey back at Vin, and Chris could only watch as Vin took several deep swallows. Eventually, the mixture of pain and alcohol knocked him out and Chris offered to sit with him, knowing there was nothing else he could do, but wanting to be close to Vin. Nathan accepted his offer and, once he had changed out of his bloodstained shirt, Chris watched as he and Buck trooped out, heading for the saloon and a stiff drink.

****

Two hours passed by slowly and then, finally, a fluttering of the dark lashes fringing those glorious blue eyes rewarded Chris's vigilance. Vin's gaze was unfocused at first but he seemed to recognize the man sitting above him for he smiled warmly even as he grimaced in pain. Chris wished he had the power to respond to that beautiful smile but the thoughts crowding in his head left no room. Instead, he held up the photograph.

"Why did you take this?"

Vin eyed the photograph, his eyes losing that bright glitter of happiness at seeing Chris seated beside him. He turned away but Chris was not about to be ignored. He had questions and he wanted answers. No. Not wanted. He needed those answers.

"Vin. Why did you have this in your pocket?"

Vin's head whipped back, the defiance in his eyes pushing aside the pain.

"You ain't that dense, Chris. You know why I took it."

Chris stared hard at Vin, wanting to believe that what his heart and head were saying was true but the fear held him fast. He wanted Vin too much to risk losing him over a misunderstanding. He stood up and paced the room, hand running through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do and say. Eventually he turned, taking refuge in asking the other questions that were waiting for answers.

"Where's the other half?"

"Gone. Burned."

"You didn't keep... it? To help us hunt down that bitch?"

Vin snorted softly. "Didn't need to. Bitch is dead."

Chris frowned, confused by Vin's words and he saw Vin's eyes widen in disbelief.

"You didn't really believe she could have slipped away from me?" Chris sat down hard, eyes holding Vin's in shock as if he was trying to see the truth of his words in the bright blue. "Hell, Chris, I used to hunt down men for a living. You said so yourself that I'm one damn fine tracker, so no woman like Ella Gaines was gonna slip by me."

"Then why did you say she got away? Why did you lie to me?"

Vin sighed, looking away, but not before Chris saw his defiance and disbelief turn to dismay.

"First, I figured to keep the truth until you was alone. Figured you might resent Mrs. Travis gaining that information and publishing it in her newspaper before you could deal with it. Later, I got to thinking that maybe you might be mad that I'd taken away your chance of seeing the bitch hang. And then I figured you must know the truth, and that you just didn't want to talk about it."

Chris stood up and walked away to gaze out the window, temporarily distracted by the ordinary signs of town life playing out before him. Cutter's wife had come into town on the buckboard and was placing supplies in the back. No doubt she would be collecting her drunk of a husband from the jail once she was ready to leave, resigned to taking him home and trying to sober him up before attending church the next day. He realized he was avoiding the issue and he forced his thoughts back to Ella Gaines.

It was true. After the initial numbness had worn off, a terrible black rage had filled him, one to equal the anger that had carried him through the first few months after the murder of Sarah and Adam. He had wanted to watch Ella Gaines hang, had wanted to spit in her face just moments before she took that long drop on a short rope--and to tell her to burn in hell.

Vin's husky voice intruded on his fantasy.

"You know she would have cheated her way out of a hanging. She would have blamed Cletus Fowler, told the Judge that he'd acted alone out of jealousy; that he'd meant to kill you... and not your family. And it would have fit with Fowler's words in the saloon that night he died."

Chris closed his eyes, recognizing the truth. She had been as slippery and as deadly as a rattler so he had no doubt that she would have walked away a free woman, and where would that have left him? Chris knew he would not have been able to watch her walk away with his family's blood on her hands. He knew he would have meted out his own form of frontier justice and ended up hanging for it.

"How did you kill her?"

"She saw me and tried to ride away. Shot the horse from under her and then I made damn sure she knew why she was gonna die before I killed her." Vin hesitated. "I did it for both of us, Cowboy."

"Both of us."

Chris echoed Vin's final words softly, knowing that Vin had acted to save him from hanging for her murder, willingly sacrificing himself should anyone ever question her disappearance.

"Where's the body?"

"She won't be found. She's dead, Chris. You can lay your family's ghosts to rest now." Vin's low voice took on an earnest tone but Chris could find no more words. "You can move on. Maybe marry Mrs. Travis and start afresh with a new family. I ain't gonna step in your way... just 'cause I want you."

The silence lengthened between them as Chris digested all that he had learned, dismay filling him when he saw the light fade completely from the blue eyes. Vin's next words were heavy with loss.

"You don't have to worry. I'll pack up and be gone by morning."

"No." He blurted out the negative, suddenly afraid that Vin would ride out of his life if he continued to say nothing. His voice softened. "No, Vin. I want you to stay."

"For how long?"

Chris swallowed hard, realizing that the time had come to make his own desire known to this man.

"Is forever long enough?"

Vin blinked, eyes narrowing in confusion before he found the true meaning in the soft words. His voice was rough with emotion as he answered.

"Reckon I can handle that."

"Been thinking about moving out of town. Perhaps settling at the shack and building it up into a working ranch." Chris looked deep into Vin's eyes. "Could use a partner."

A slow, lazy and infinitely beautiful grin was the answer to his unspoken question.

****

**Epilogue:**

They had always felt comfortable in each other's presence--until now. Chris closed the door of the shack behind them and leaned back against it, looking uncertain of what to do next. In contrast, Vin walked to the middle of the small room but he made no move to sit down or get comfortable. Instead he fiddled, nervously, with the fringe of his buckskin coat before dragging off his hat and dropping it onto the table. His eyes darted around the cabin, seeing the small differences Chris had made since the last time he was here.

"Nettie sew that back up for you?"

Vin looked down at the left side of his coat to where the knife had penetrated the tough buckskin.

"No. Can handle a needle good enough myself."

"Can barely notice where it was torn."

Two weeks had passed since the day a drunk had knifed Vin, with both of them wanting to wait until they had recovered from their injuries before taking this next important step in their relationship.

"The blood stained... though not so's you would notice."

Small talk. Vin smiled softly when he realized they were making small talk to avoid the real issue here.

"Whiskey?"

Vin licked his lips nervously. "Yeah."

"I've... I've never done this before."

Vin raised his eyebrows at Chris's revelation; stunned and strangely delighted at the same time.

"I have."

His fear melted with the knowledge that he would be the experienced one here, and his demeanor changed, moving from nervousness to confidence as he let his eyes range over the dark clad, living shadow pressed against the door. A slow smile curved upwards as, for the first time, he allowed Chris to see the full extent of the desire he felt for him. Vin held out his hand, beckoning to Chris with the same patience he would show for a skittish horse, making no other move that might send Chris running.

"Don't have to rush into anything, Cowboy. We got time. Plenty of time."

Chris gave him a wry grin as if realizing how foolish he must look hiding in the shadows by the door. He stepped forward, reaching out beyond the offered hand for their familiar forearm greeting but hesitating at the last moment and placing his hand in Vin's, curling his fingers around the strong fingers. Vin pulled Chris gently towards him, drawing him out of the shadows and into the circle of light thrown out by the lamp. The glow gave the sun-kissed strands of hair an orange hue, the flickering light making it seem as if Chris's head was crowned in living flame.

Vin could not see the true color of the green eyes in the orange lamplight but his strong memory supplied the soft greens and golds. He gazed deep into those eyes, no longer needing any reason or subterfuge for this audacity, and saw lingering indecision and fear vying with desire. Letting go of Chris's hand, Vin sat down at the small table. He filled a shot glass with whiskey and pushed it across the smoothed surface, waiting until Chris had taken a seat next to him before he downed the contents of his glass. They had one more drink before Vin stood up.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Chris watching his every move so he stripped off his coat slowly and draped it over the back of the chair. He released the tie from around his thigh, then removed the rest of the gun belt and laid it upon the table. The suspenders dropped from each shoulder to hang loosely by his sides; his pants riding lower on his hips now they had lost that additional support.

Vin retook his seat at the table, almost grinning at the relief that sprang into Chris's eyes. Chris did not realize that Vin had put them on an even footing for, now, both of them were wearing the same layers of clothing: shirt, pants, boots and undergarments. Vin let another hour pass before he made his next move. In that time they sipped at the whiskey and ate the chicken dumplings and corn bread that Chris had set cooking before his arrival.

"Thinking it's time to turn in."

"Okay."

Vin pushed back from the table and indicated that he needed to relief himself. When he came back, Chris decided that it was time he stepped outside too, and while he waited for Chris to return, Vin kicked off his boots and moved over to the corner of the room where a large bed stood against the wall. He stripped off his shirt and dropped the pants, and then he unbuttoned and shrugged out of his union suit and climbed into the bed, drawing the blanket up to his chest. Vin looked across the room as the door opened and he turned onto his side, partially rising up onto one elbow so he could catch the expression on Chris's face.

"Figured I'd warm up the bed for you, or are you planning on standing there all night?"

"Damn, ornery cowboy."

Chris stripped off his clothes quickly, cheeks reddening when he noticed the open appreciation in Vin's eyes. He slid into the bed, close enough that Vin could feel the heat radiating off his body and yet not close enough to touch. Vin made the first move to close the distance between them as he reached out and caressed the flatness of the firm stomach, feeling the strong muscles quiver beneath his questing fingers. Chris moved suddenly, rolling onto his side facing Vin, one hand reaching out to fall over Vin's hip. The hand stroked across Vin's lower back, growing bolder with each downward caress until the palm was smoothing over his ass cheek.

Vin leaned forward and any doubts he had that Chris was not ready for this intimacy fled as Chris moved to meet his lips. They were every bit as soft as he had imagined and he stroked his tongue across them as the kiss deepened, those lips parting eagerly. Vin plunged into the hot mouth, tasting the whiskey and a hint of the rich tobacco from the cheroot Chris had smoked after supper. Beneath it, though, he discovered another unique taste and he savored the very essence of this man that he loved as their tongues collided and stroked against one another.

Any former shyness disappeared as Chris's hands roved confidently over Vin's body, gently kneading and caressing his flesh. He moaned into the mouth that joined his own, humming his appreciation as licks of desire swept through him, turning his blood to fire. Vin thrust his hips forward, heedless of the echo of pain from the knife wound, crushing his hardened flesh against its counterpart, trapping both engorged shafts between their close-pressed bodies.

All too soon, he felt a tingling sensation that heralded the start of his climax. He moaned, thrusting harder against his lover's strong abdominal muscles, reveling in the warmth that spread outwards, inflaming both body and soul. The warmth became liquid heat as he found release, gasping his pleasure into the mouth still covering his own. Chris stilled in his arms, his strong fingers digging hard into Vin's ass cheeks as fresh heat flooded between them.

Vin held on tightly while their bodies trembled from the power of this first release, unwilling to let go. He bathed in the warmth of completion that still flickered at the edge of all his senses, sighing softly against the sweat-soaked hair as he nuzzled the vulnerable throat.

Vin had known this first time would be fast and furious with little finesse, but he did not care. There would be plenty of time for taking it slow, and plenty of time to explore every inch of the body wrapped in his arms before he took the ultimate possession of this man. He smiled as he felt those kiss-ripened lips against his temple.

"Seem to recall you saying we don't have to rush into anything."

Vin chuckled softly as he reached over for a damp cleaning rag to wipe away the sticky residue of their spent passion.

"Don't recall hearing no protests. But then I never figured you for the long courtship dance, Cowboy."

"You saying I'm easy? Like some two-bit whore?"

Vin laughed, seeing the mischievous glint in the bright, pleasure-sated eyes. "Hell, there's one thing you'll never be, Larabee, and that's easy."

Chris grinned, the whole of his face brightening as the weight of the past dropped away from his features.

As they closed their eyes, welcoming the first of many nights sleeping in each other's arms, Vin found his thoughts returning to Ella Gaines. He remembered how she had looked up from the ground while pinned beneath the fallen horse, with her dark eyes begging for life, and he wondered if he would burn in Josiah's hell for sending a bullet smashing between those beseeching eyes. He had not told Chris partly because he had feared Chris's reaction to his cold-blooded execution of that bitch. He had been afraid that Chris would see his actions as being no different to hers, destroying a rival for his affections, but then he considered her obsession with this man. He recalled how she had been willing to kill anyone and destroy anything that came between her and Chris, and he knew he did not share that trait.

He had killed her because Chris would not have seen justice done in this life had he brought her back to stand trial. He had killed her because she would have come back into Chris's life again one day, destroying anything he had built in the intervening years. More importantly, though, he had killed her to save Chris from being the one to end her miserable life, and save Chris from being the one to hang for murdering her.

However, there was one other thing he had done before burying her body in a place where no one would ever find it, though he would take that particular secret to his grave. In Indian custom, he had plucked out those hard, obsessed eyes, crushing them with the heel of his boot. He had wanted to ensure that she would never again be able to find Chris in this life or in the next; condemning her spirit to wandering in darkness forever.

A strange peace swept over him as he listened to Chris's breathing slow into sleep, knowing that this man was now his alone. He smiled into the curve of Chris's neck, planting a soft kiss on the warm flesh and then he slept, dreaming of the warm days and hot nights they would spend together - forever.

THE END


End file.
